Being Brave
by Navel of the Turtle Man
Summary: A second look at what drives Luna Lovegood to stand by her friends.


Disclaimer: you know the drill.

AN: This is kind of my advertisement/ resume for a beta. Anyone interested?

Summery: A second look at what drives Luna Lovegood to fight.

* * *

Brave, they called her. 

Courageous as any of Godric's with enough whimsy to put Trelawney to shame; something desperately needed in those long, gloomy months of recovery. Death had touched them all, and as Ron said, everyone could use her special brand of cheer.

Voldemort, Death Eaters, and even the endless taunts and teasing of her schoolmates—a lesser person would have crumbled under their fear, according to Harry.

Standing before Evil along side the others in the Department of Mysteries (her father had been so proud), defending the castle in Draco Malfoy's invasion (who knew Felix Felicitous was so tasty?), being so strong for everyone in those months of captivity (how she had missed the sun!).

But accepting her medal of honor among that handful of heroes had been one of the hardest things she had ever done.

Brave they called her. Bravery was a lie she played out so well.

The truth?

Luna Lovegood was curious.

She stayed in that wild ring of danger radiating around Harry and his friends—yes for the company and comfort, and the ever-alluring taste of true friendship—but so much more for the sake of her own curiosity.

What better place to slake her natural thirst for knowledge than in that second ring of followers bombarded with hidden truths and ancient secrets?

After all, Mummy always said that Danger bred Discovery.

Curiosity was something that all seasoned Ravenclaws were well acquainted with from years of suffering at it's hand. The need to know, to learn, to understand _everything_ was an itch crawling under their skin, driving them to recklessness and odd behavior far to often. There's a thin line between genius and insanity.

Perhaps this was the reason they chose to stay so aloof. Separated by riddles and knowledge and questions, they could watch the cunning Slytherin and bold Griffindor battle out their ancient feud, while the sturdy but quiet Hufflepuff struggled to stay out of the crossfire.

Generations of trial and error had taught them to stay well clear of battle, less that itch make itself too well known, dragging them back into that danger.

Luna especially understood the position that her housemates took. To let others risk their necks to reveal the truth was cowardly, true, but the brave dead would never have a chance to _understand_.

But unlike her fellow Ravenclaws, the itch of curiosity had manifested itself too deeply into her bones to ignore any longer, pushing her to interact with Ginny, and then Harry. She wanted to see those discoveries first hand, up close with her own dreamy eyes.

And that was _her_ driving force.

Oh of course she loved her friends, truly she did! Because Danger bred Bonds, too. But there was no true interest in that endless battle of good verses evil that everyone else seamed addicted to. Not for her, not for her father, not even for her mother, may she rest in peace.

What need did she have for the lines of right and wrong? What want did she have for glory and fame? Her friends could reap the rewards of their good deeds all they pleased. She would bask in her own knowledge.

So when the newly appointed Minister of Magic (Kingsley Shackleboot of course) decided to honor each of the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts with the Order of Merlin, First Class, dread settled deep into her stomach.

The night before the ceremony, the itch was silenced, if only briefly, by the overwhelming need to cry.

The next day, as that heavy gold medallion was slipped over her sunny head on a thick satin sash, it took enormous self control to maintain that simple smile. Her fingers fisted at her side with the urge to rip the glittering thing from her neck and toss it hard into the crowd. She bit her tongue to stop the cries that threatened to tumble over her lips.

"_I don't deserve this! I'm not brave! Don't praise me for this need to know!"_

But then she would ruin it for the others, and that just wasn't fair.

Later, as she buried the award at the base of a tree (to thank the nest of Gigglewillins for making the roses bloom) she reflected on her friends.

How proud and strong Neville had looked, shoulders back and head up, his Grandmother's exuberant shouts of, "That's my grandson! Isn't he handsome up there? Just like his parents!" causing him to grin. Ron and Hermione's hands were clasped together, a diamond ring glinting on her hand.

Next to them, smiling weakly, George wore a second medal, Fred's name engraved above the words, "For his honorable services and greatest sacrifice."

Fitting, but not enough.

Ginny, of course, stood strong and smiling, a loyal lioness next to her hero.

And then there was Harry.

Looking back on it Luna could see the heavy sadness that pulled on the scared boy's face. She supposed being dead, if only for a time, could take quite a toll on a person, even one as good as Harry Potter, for his smile looked worn.

But when their eyes met, a look of sympathetic _knowing_ was sent her way. As he was awarded his own medal (he had refused to take more than one, despite Kingsley's insistence), Luna could see an echoing humbleness in him.

_Don't worry,_ he seamed to say, _I don't deserve this either._

No, Luna Lovegood was not brave, and would never be, but…if it brought her close to friends like these…

_Maybe being curious was enough. _


End file.
